


Fractures

by sunzeniths



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Friendship/Love, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunzeniths/pseuds/sunzeniths
Summary: Lucy pays Wyatt a little visit in his cell and attempts to reassure him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Yahoo's sneak peek for 1x14. Because we all need a little moment like this.
> 
> Jumps between Wyatt's and Lucy's POVs.
> 
>  
> 
> **I do not own Lucy, Wyatt, other characters, Timeless or the universes created by Eric Kripke, Shawn Ryan, et al.**

-

 

Lucy doesn’t even bother knocking. She marches into the agent’s office hurriedly, the speech she had so carefully rehearsed turning into a simple demand. “I need to see Wyatt.”

 

Denise Christopher looks up from the paperwork in hand, a look of astonishment. “Excuse me?”

 

“I know you have the authority to give me permission.”

 

“Lucy, he’s in an undisclosed location. No visitors allowed.”

 

“So blindfold me, have me ride the trunk of a car, whatever you have to do.”

 

Denise looks at her skeptically, left brow up. Lucy sighs, _that’s not the way to get what she wants_.

 

“I’m sorry,” she offers. “Please … I need to talk to him, okay? I just need to talk to him.”

 

“What’s this about?”

 

“I’m not going to try to break him out or anything … I just … I want to explain some things to him. He was given no time to process his losses … or just _anything_ that happened after he came back from that trip,” Lucy explains. “Please, I just want to help him out.”

 

The agent looks at her knowingly. She’s right, Lucy’s right. It couldn’t hurt. Denise had been planning to pay him a visit herself that afternoon. She didn’t like doing this … having him locked up … but it was her job and she had to do it. She couldn’t deny the anguished look Wyatt displayed while being taken away … and with reason. He could certainly use a friendly face.

 

“Make it quick.”

 

*

 

There’s bright light engulfing the cell for the first time in … _how long_? He doesn’t even know how long he’s been in there. It’s definitely the most light he’s seen since he was thrown in that cubicle … well, “seen” being a stretch since he didn’t bother to look up or even open his eyes.

 

The heavy door closes with a thump and the ringing in his ears from the sweeping silence resumes. What the hell was all of that for? Had a meal just been brought to him? Opening a cell door just to close it right back was not protocol. So why had they just done it? He didn’t know and frankly … he didn’t care.

 

Lucy stands by the door, watching. Wyatt has his head down, stance unchanged by the commotion that has just transpired. He’s sitting on the _makeshift-bench-improvised-bed_ (or whatever it is those excuses for lounging places are called) in the far end of the cell, hands clasped together in cuffs.

 

The sight makes Lucy’s blood boil. Had Wyatt made a mistake? Absolutely. Should he pay for it? Sure. But this seemed a bit extreme for her likings … the conditions in which he was being kept, _these_ conditions … it was outrageous. Wyatt hadn’t gone on a murder spree, he hadn’t committed treason or conducted a terrorist attack. It was reckless and impulsive and even wrong of him to steal the Lifeboat, but he had returned it safely and even surrendered to the authorities upon his return, no fights.

 

She takes in a breath of what she would like to call _fresh_ air but in this place, it’s anything but. Her mouth opens and she hesitates for a second, but then she finally manages a stammer.

 

“W- W- Wyatt?”

 

The sound registers in his ears and he considers whether delirium might be starting to kick in. Despite the daunting thoughts he brings himself to look up in the direction of the gloomy entryway, squinting his eyes in an attempt to adjust to the poorly lit quarter. He knows that voice … it sends a shiver down his spine the moment he hears it, but he’s afraid to acknowledge it … afraid to give it power over him. What if he allows that voice to make him hopeful … just to find out he’d been in a daze?

 

His sight finally adjusts and relief swells in his chest, followed by a foreign fleeting pang. That is her all right … all dark hair, dark eyes, and the casual look she always has before stepping inside the Lifeboat … the casual look she pulls off so well. Her signature Adidas bring a quick smile to his face that is soon replaced by concern. Her facial expression displays disturbance, he notices, and the strength with which she secures a tablet to her grasp turns her knuckles white.

 

“Lucy?” Wyatt is fast on his feet. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

 

That’s just like Wyatt Logan, Lucy thinks … worrying about other people when he’s the one in a crumbling situation. Lucy forces a smile, walking past him to sit by the spot he had just vacated. As if by an unspoken request, Wyatt follows suit.

 

Lucy regards him for a while. He looks so battered … so downcast and broke and dispirited. She wishes she could reach out for him and make the pain go away as easy and fast as flowers wither in the dead of winter. And so she follows her instincts and locks her emotions away … deep down … in a place no one could possibly reach, _or so she thinks_.

 

“How are you?” She knows the question is as stupid as it sounds the moment the words part from her.

 

Wyatt is gentle enough to simply shrug at the question and not chastise her for it.

 

“Wyatt, I’m so sorry,” she says in a low tone. “I’m _so_ sorry about Jessica.”

 

Wyatt was half hoping she wouldn’t bring that up … but that was just stupid, a child’s whim. What else would Lucy be doing there? With a tablet in hand no less. She had come to help him figure things out, he was sure. It was such a nice gesture on her part … they were so intent on the task of taking him away … his brain didn’t have the time to process the information that was given him. He had heard Lucy’s voice, and then Rufus’ … “Jessica is still dead”, “the other two women are alive”, “I’m so sorry, Wyatt,” … none of that had actually registered.

 

The moment his body hit the cold cell floor the previous day he wept … at what exactly? _Everything_. The confusion, frustration, sadness. How was it possible she was not alive? It made no sense. The other two women were alive … why wasn’t Jessica alive as well? He needed someone to explain it to him … walk him through it.

 

As if Lucy had just read his mind, he is momentarily blinded by the brightness on the screen as she brings it to life with a tap.

 

“It happened the same way it did before,” she measures her words … careful with every intonation, as if she were defusing a bomb.

 

Wyatt takes a quick peek at the screen but soon averts his eyes … he knows that article really well. He spent the last five years of his life reading it front to back, looking at any hint that could point him toward a new clue.

 

“I don’t understand, Lucy. How did this happen? How is it possible?” He is shaking his head and his breath is getting more erratic with every syllable. Lucy feels helpless … just as confused as he is, wishing she could be of more help than to just state the obvious to him.

 

“I don’t know,” she says, desperately trying to reach deep within … trying to find words that’ll make him feel better, give him a little bit of comfort. _You can do this, Lucy,_ she tells herself. _You have a PhD in History; words should come easy to you._ But she has nothing.

 

“I killed a man, Lucy. And not a serial killer like H.H. Holmes … a good man,” he says, the guilt cutting him like a knife.

 

Rufus had told her all about their _adventure_. Lucy nods sorrowfully. “I know, Wyatt. It was an accident,” she tries reassuring him, knowing he won’t believe it.

 

Wyatt looks into her eyes now, reaching, searching, and a jolt of pain is sent through every fiber in Lucy’s body as she knows he’s not going to find anything there. He shakes his head, Lucy hears the word “no” several times before he laughs nervously and she’s so concerned for him … concerned he might be having a breakdown.

 

_“Why?”_

 

The word comes out in a monotone and it’s cracked and broken … Lucy doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this desolate before. She feels helpless and her emotions mirror his … she opens her mouth but there’s only void where her mind used to be.

 

Wyatt is not ashamed of what happens next. He trusts Lucy, he cares for her … they are close … good friends, right? He’d told Rufus on occasion he had no one … Jessica was all he had, but the truth was … Lucy was the closest thing he had to “having someone”. _Fuck it_ , he thinks. _This is Lucy._ If he couldn’t be comfortable and himself with her … then who? He lets it all out. He doesn’t care about anything anymore, he just allows her to see him in his most vulnerable, the emotion he had been struggling to keep in finally free … he’s an open book for her to see.

 

He slowly gravitates towards her, his forehead cautiously coming into contact with her shoulder, as if he’s asking for permission to do so. Lucy is stiff for a split second, taken aback … surprised by the gesture, but quickly recovers and allows him to relax. Wyatt adjusts and cries into the crook of her neck and Lucy softens up, pressing her eyes together … willing herself not to breathe in his scent. He’s shivering rhythmically and the silence in the room is impaired by his quiet sobs. She brings her hand up and stops midair …  considering her next step, calculating … and settles on brushing her fingertips against his messy hair. She whispers a suppressed _“It’s okay,”_ she’s sure is inaudible to him.

 

And so that’s how the pair remains for what feels like … forever. For both of them. Wyatt can almost fall asleep, he feels _that_ calm and serene … his shudders slowly subsiding to Lucy’s strokes. Lucy, on the other hand, fights to keep herself alert … represses any impulses she might want to give into. Her eyes fill with tears many times over.

 

“I’m sorry, Wyatt. I really am,” she breaks the silence.

 

She’s being completely honest. She admitted Wyatt’s visit in the middle of the night before stealing the Lifeboat had thrown her off her game a little, but the grief she felt for Wyatt was real … despite herself. She’d spent the entire day while Wyatt and Rufus were back in 1983 stressing out over what it might mean … what Jessica coming back might mean to her … him … _them_. But now all she felt was guilt. How could she be so selfish? How could she even think that? What gave her the right? How could she feel so entitled to even allow the thought to cross over her mind?

 

“It’s possible … ” Lucy starts it as a statement, but quickly changes her tone to make it a question. “Is it possible … that … he didn’t kill her?”

 

Wyatt is silent for a moment but Lucy feels him react to it on her own body … he’s considering, pondering.

 

“He said he did it,” Wyatt says, and Lucy shifts in her seat at the shiver his hot breath sends through her neck.

 

“Maybe … he lied?”

 

“Why would he do that?”

 

“I don’t know, Wyatt … I- I don’t know. With everything we’ve been shown lately … all this Rittenhouse crap … time travel, I don’t know. I guess anything is possible.”

 

Wyatt remains still. She’s right. He hadn’t considered that possibility … or didn’t want to consider that possibility … but it made sense. The problem was … that only evoked more questions.

 

Another moment of silence falls between them and Lucy considers whether it is a good time or not to do this, if it was selfish of her to do it … but she has to, she just _has_ to share it with him.

 

“Wyatt, I have to tell you something.”

 

He brings himself up immediately … he knew it, he saw it plastered across her face the moment he set his eyes on her. He wipes away the reminiscent tears in his eyes but it is not much help since the trace is still there to be seen … left behind in redness and swelling.

 

Lucy is struggling. She opens her mouth to speak but trails off before even starting. She’s calculating the right way of saying it, but can’t find a solution to her predicament.

 

“You know you can trust me, right?”

 

“I know,” Lucy nods. “I know. That’s not it … it’s just,” she digresses.

 

“What? What is it, Lucy?” The concern in his voice is evident.

 

She won’t let this surge of emotions take over her … she _won’t._ She curses herself in her mind and clears her throat so she can finally share this burden with him. Ever since she found out … he was the only person she wanted to tell.

 

“Remember when I told you about my father?” She’s cautious, as if she’s handling something flammable. “My _biological_ father,” she quickly clarifies.

 

“Yeah. We were just about to travel to … to Watergate,” he waits expectantly for her to continue.

 

Lucy nods. “Well, yeah … while you guys were out … I found out … he … _we_ found out,” Lucy takes in a sharp breath to keep her from breaking down.

 

Wyatt doesn’t want to rush her or startle her, so he just lets her take her time ... even if it worries him beyond words.

 

Lucy takes another shaky breath and shuts her eyes tightly. “He is Rittenhouse,” she finally manages to get out.

 

She doesn’t have the guts to look Wyatt in the eyes, so she just keeps going. “He’s been working with Mason, he’s the one who’s been terrorizing Rufus and his family … Rufus was pretty upset when he found out … I guess you can’t blame him, you know”?

 

Lucy clears her throat and just stares at her limp hands sitting on her lap.

 

Wyatt tries taking the information in, dumbfounded. Lucy is clearly distressed, hands shaking now, and Wyatt tries his best to offer some comfort all the while not alarming her.

 

“Lucy … ” he starts. His tone is considerate and understanding, and that just makes her want to cry even more. “Are you … are you okay?”

 

Lucy just shakes her head “no”, mustering the courage to look him in the eye for the first time.

 

“I know things are going to change now. The DHS won’t trust me anymore … and with reason. Rufus, _you_ … ” her voice cracked at the last one “ … anyone wouldn’t want to associate with someone like me.”

 

Wyatt normally found it endearing when Lucy went at it like this … not this time. The distress she was feeling was very real … it showed in her tone, her body language, her aura.

 

“What are you talking about, Lucy?”

 

“I am Rittenhouse,” she spits out. “I’m everything we’ve been fighting this whole time. I’m a fraud.”

 

While it breaks him, he’s not surprised Lucy thinks that way. If the things that had been going on around Mason Industries lately were any indication, it wouldn’t surprise him if they actually did start treating her that way, like an outcast.

 

“Lucy, you are not Rittenhouse. You are not a fraud.”

 

Lucy scoffs as if she wants to believe him but doesn’t, _can’t_. “It’s in my blood, Wyatt. It’s who I am. It’s what makes up my very existence.”

 

“No, it’s not. It doesn’t mean anything, Lucy. It doesn’t dictate who you are.”

 

“It does, Wyatt. It does. That’s what biology is all about,” she cries. “I’m losing everything, Wyatt. My sister … my identity. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

 

“Lucy, listen to me,” he says. “You are nothing like those bastards, _nothing_. You are the complete opposite.”

 

“Am I?”

 

“Yes, Lucy. And I mean the _complete_ opposite. There’s still much about Rittenhouse we have yet to learn but so far we know they kill everyone and anyone in their way … including _children._ And they do it just for the mere heck of it … to hurt other people. They kill people for not sharing their beliefs.” Wyatt’s tone manifests just how disgusted and infuriated he is. “You, Lucy … will not allow us to take out _bad_ people … because if we do … it might cause ripples in ways we can’t possibly predict. You have to sit idle and watch some of your idols … some of the best individuals history has ever seen … get murdered because saving them might also bring about something bad in our current reality,” the emotion in Wyatt’s voice was raw, unrestrained.

 

Lucy feels her breath catch in her chest, no strings to hold back the hot unshed tears in her eyes.

 

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Lucy. I’m sorry on top of everything this has to be a part of your reality now … but it means nothing. _Nothing_. You’re still you.”

 

“But,” Lucy tries to counteract, to which Wyatt simply holds his index up.

 

“You’re a good person, Lucy. No biology, blood, or DNA is ever going to change that. There’s not one ‘Rittenhouse’ bone inside of you,” and they both briefly chuckle at treating the word as an adjective. “You make your own history. _You_ , Lucy. You’re the only one who can determine the person you are.”

 

She looks at him, her heart is warmed beyond belief. She cannot believe him … this man … sitting a few inches from her, is he even real? Not minutes ago he was going through his own ordeal but he pulled himself together … to comfort her. She didn’t know how much she needed to hear those words until they left his mouth.

 

“You really think so?”

 

“I know so.”

 

They sit in silence for a moment and electricity goes through Lucy’s body when their little fingers brush together. Lucy is trying to decide whether the brush was accidental or not … it was all due to reflection, right? Their hands were resting on their sides and they were close to each other … so it was only natural their fingers nudged upon movement … wasn’t it? A loud thud brings their attention to the door, and a man in black uniform announces they are waiting for her.

 

“Flynn jumped,” he says. “They need you ready to go now.”

 

Lucy eyes Wyatt, she _so_ doesn’t want to go on a mission without him … but she has to. It’s something she’ll discuss with Agent Christopher as soon as she comes back. “I’ll see what I can do about this,” she tells him.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Lucy,” he shakes his head. Too late. Of course she worried about it.

 

She gets up against her will, breaking the physical contact between them and takes just a little too long to walk to the door. She stops midway and turns to find his attention fixated on her … and she needs to take a deep breath to fight against the sudden weakness manifesting on her knees.

 

“Thank you, Wyatt,” she simply states.

 

He smiles and nods. Takes a while before adding. “Thank _you_ , Lucy. Thank _you_.”

 

Lucy is just about to turn the corner and make it to the frigid corridor outside his cell when he calls out after her.

 

“Hey, Lucy?”

 

She turns to face him, happy she has an excuse to get lost in the vastness of his blue eyes one last time.

 

“Nothing’s going to change. This dynamic,” he motions back and forth between the two of them “it’s not going to change. If everything else is lost to you … I’ll still be there.”

 

And then the bang of the door makes the room go dark.

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any mistakes you might find. This fic hasn't been beta'd. I hope we get at least one Lucy/Wyatt moment in The Lost Generation. Fingers crossed.


End file.
